


The Way We Want It

by eastern_wind



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, KiddWay - Freeform, M/M, Male James Kidd | Mary Read, POV Edward, POV First Person, not so "all about the money" Edward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastern_wind/pseuds/eastern_wind
Summary: At Tulum, when being confronted by Kidd and Ah Tabai about his actions and their consequences, Edward wants to repair the damage he'd done to Assassin's Order and to understand what does the Creed really mean. Kidd is more than happy to lend him a hand.AU from the mission on Tulum. And also male Kidd, because I love him this way.





	1. Reclaiming Tulum

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!

If Great Inagua felt like a child’s play with all hide-and-seek style fooling around, Tulum feels like a major clusterfuck. My crew is taken hostage. My ship is in danger, Kidd is pacing the small clearing, angry and visibly frightened for his comrades. This Ah Tabai man watches me with such hatred as if I’d killed his family. Wait, in a sense, I did. With all that map crap and Sage blood thingy, it’s no surprise these Templar guys found the place and are making themselves at home right now. Shit! 

The dark skinned leader of Assassin’s Order tells me to fuck off from the island and he is oh so kind to me to  _ pardon my offences. _ Offences, my ass! And how was I to know about all this conspiratorial stuff going on? Assassins! Templars! I just wanted to earn some money, thank you very much! And what have I got in return? 

Some arrogant prick wants me to miraculously transport him to Havana after shipwreck (where am I to get a ship, you bastard?), then tries to kill me minutes later. No wonder he got some steel in his gut! Am I to blame? Yea, I took his belongings, it’s not like he needed them anymore. And it’s not like I really hung around these Te-e-e-e-emplars for that long, even I can sense they are up to no good, especially, when I’m getting underpaid!

Still, how on Earth a simple pirate is to know that these guys are bad and on a wild hunt after another secret order, huh? Haven’t seen it in my books, Sir. Anyway, we have what we have and I still need my crew back on the Jackdaw. So, it seems some rescue operation is in order, isn’t it, Kidd?

And here he goes, loaning me some kind of blowpipe, trying to lure me into saving his people by the promise of some old treasure. Well, you may think what you wanna think, Kidd-o, but, truth be told, I have a heart, actually. I may not get all your Creed crap (yet), but I ain’t gonna just sit here in the bush and watch people getting slaughtered. Still… 

“You know what”, I say, “when we clean this up, you’re so explaining me everything, mate”.

And maybe I'm just seeing things or plainly hallucinating from exhaustion and sleep deprivation, but the anger in pirate’s eyes is somewhat dissipating and his goddamn smirk is back.

“You only need to ask, Kenway”, he nearly sings, “now move!” And leaving me alone with my nonexistent comeback, Kidd darts forward. He moves silently and with such grace and agility, it’s hard to follow his advance in the semi darkness of humid jungle wood, so I take a deep breath, close my eyes and concentrate. For a single moment the world goes absolutely still and silent, but as I open my eyes again, the onslaught on all five senses is almost unbearable. 

I can hear agitated chirping of birds in the distance, angry whoops of monkeys, straddling long green vines in attempt to hide from loudmouthed soldiers, and still my own breathing is nearly deafening. The clothes cling to my skin, hot and wet with humidity and my sweat. Yeah, two layers of pants, four layers of shirts, coats and overcoats hanging on me like a deadweight is what I desperately need just before the fight. My mouth feel like a desert with an aftertaste of badly distilled rum and salty smell of the sea, which suddenly can reach me from the shore far below and away, doesn’t help at all. 

The sight comes back to me last but full force, coloring the world with all shades of indigo with occasional splatters of red and, well, red. Seems like these Assassins guys aren’t going to make is easier. Well, I brought this shit on them, I’m going to rule this out and just hope they won’t stab me in the chest the moment I cut their ropes. Eh, stop stalling, Kenway, do your thing!

Just as I jump down from the uphill and start for the next safely-pale looking bush, something blue shifts in my peripheral vision. Kidd. Hm, the boy seems to still have some faith in me, nice! Well, have to clean this mess and I totally gotta do it with style.

***

On the second thought, just working stealthy will do. Nearly every plot of cleared out land, as small as they are, is occupied by soldiers and their bound captives. I take a few minutes to plan my advance, trying to find a way to safely free everyone. James’ blue form shifts from bush to bush on my right. He’s good at hiding as I’m at bar brawling - very much so. 

I catch a glimpse of him as he blows the sleeping dart right into the neck of a gunman ten meters away. The man slowly sinks to his knees and falls, face slamming into the wet dirt of jungle floor. Kidd swiftly creeps behind the second guard coming to investigate the fallen comrade and cuts the ropes on another Assassin’s hands. They produce no sound as pirate’s hidden blade penetrates the guard’s ribcage and Assassin’s knife slits sleeping gunman’s throat. The heaving man is still falling, trying to close the wound that, no doubt, pierces his lung, and Kidd and the freed Assassin are already nowhere to be seen.

The tactics seems sound so I take out the pipe the pirate gave me and creep towards the clearing on my left. Ancient looking stone structure slowly emerges out of thick vegetation up the hill, the man lying on the floor is tied and badly beaten. Shame grips my throat, it was I who brought suffering in Tulum and the urge to do something as reckless as run for help makes me squirm and nearly gives my hiding place away. The guard, who has been casually strolling up and down the dirtroad, stops and stares suspiciously at the bush I’m hiding in. Well, why don’t I use it to my advantage? I strap the blowpipe back to my belt and whistle softly, inwardly preparing for the attack. The man comes near the branches and tries to peer through them, the moment he seems close enough, I strike. 

My vision comes back to normal and adrenaline is pumping in my veins as the tip of the hidden blade pierces the flesh of the uprepaired man and tears a wound in his body. He tries to scream, but my palm is already on his mouth, muffling the sounds of desperate agony. I feel no pride in killing him, but no remorse either. It would come to me later, haunting the night with his last wail and helpless clawing on my armored hand. 

I lay the lifeless body on the ground and once again inspect the landscape before me. Down the road three Assassin men and one woman stand on their knees, heads bowed deep, a redhead gunman holds the muzzle of his weapon aimed on them. Two more guards stand on the opposite sides of the clearing, looking out for a possible intruder. Well, mates, I don’t plan on you seeing me. My gaze returns to the corpse behind me and I sigh. It would not hurt to do without the excess killing.

The man in the stone building attracts my attention again, he’s looking even worse now, most certainly, he’s bleeding. I get out of the shadow of my hiding place and silently creep towards him. Getting closer I can see the wound on his left hand, the blood dripping on the cold stone floor, the smell of iron thick enough to overpower the usual damp aroma of the jungle. Once in and hidden by the column withered by time and weather, I cut the rope on his hands, help him to bandage the injury and crawl into the woods. When I’m already near the column again, he gives away the bird-like chirp that gets my attention and throws me a couple of sleeping darts. I mouthe  _ thank you _ and prepare to free the Assassins down the road.

***

This is suicide, I think, as I continue to creep in the open, not hidden by grass or trees, down the road. The gunman lies on the ground, fast asleep, the other two guards still study the bushes, oblivious to my advance. Oh, shite, this is goddamn suicide, I swear inwardly, nearly stepping onto the heap of dried leaves. That could be noisy and really dangerous. Two days without sleep are making me less observant, I need to concentrate and fast! So I let myself drown in smells and sounds and senses for a second, letting in familial awareness of the Sight.

Two red blotches color my vision on both right and left, the third lies limply on the dark ground. Knowing that I have no more than twenty seconds left, I scurry forward and swiftly slice the first, second, third rope. As my internal countdown comes to five, I turn to the last captive - woman, I reckon, but her hands are already freed by the comrade. Just as I sprint further down the road, two soft thuds and a crack of the bone reach my ears. Well, at least no one’s going to shoot me in the back now. 

What I see next sets my blood on fire. Where the road splits and goes down in two different directions lies the stone ledge, hanging over the forest settlement similar to the ones of some native tribe. The center of the ledge is adorned with old and already crumbling down Mayan or Aztec ruin. At the partially collapsed entrance two crimson red figures - guards hold a small blue figure at the gunpoint. A child. Shite! 

Rage swells inside me and only by chance I don’t lose the concentration. Thank god for small miracles. The world sways, but the indigo doesn’t yield to technicolor and I manage to get a glimpse of a bigger slightly glowing figure carefully finding its way through the undergrowth, must be Kidd. I hold up a hand, not high enough to give away my position to the guards should they decide to take a look around, but, hopefully, high enough for fellow pirate to spot me with his Sight. Yes! He stops and gives me a sign not to attack. I feel my shoulders tense as I wait for him to get to a more favorable spot and in two minutes I see him taking out his blowpipe and giving me a signal. Now!

We take both guards out simultaneously, then he hurries towards the child as I bring up the rear. Kidd talks with the small boy in a low hushed tone, waving his hand in the direction he came from while I knock out both guards. The anger is still boiling inside me, but it doesn’t threaten to spill over the edge anymore. I’m just happy James was with me as the boy clearly knows him and follows his instructions without any objections.

The moment I prepare to take off to the next patch of bushes, the man beckons me to the edge of the ledge.

“Let’s take a look at what we have here first”, he whispers and, well, the proposition is sound, so I follow. We stealthily climb to the top of the building, grateful to the shade produced by thick entanglement of vines above our heads. As we shuffle closer to each other on the narrow ledge I swear I can not just hear, but see and almost taste the steady beating of James’ heart. This observation throws me off somehow and I stare at him, already not a glowing figure, but a handsome man crouching beside me. Shit, you have the best timing, Edward!

“Gotta stop these roaches from poking around”, Kidd’s voice is low and steady, “then you can glare holes in me all ya want, Kenway”. And that’s not helping, not at all. I am tired and high on adrenaline and my body seems to take a sudden interest in the pirate. I try to focus on the guards, but he is close enough I can smell him even without the help of the Sight. Nah, now is not the time, have to free my crew and Order guys, I tell myself as strict as possible and stare through the branches.

“Shite, they’ve got snipers!”, I let out a slow breath, my mind once again concentrated solely on the task. However, I don’t use the Sight again, just my eyes to tell me where the enemy is. “One, two”, I indicate spotted men to Kidd.

“Three”, he murmurs, pointing his finger directly below our ledge. The dark haired gunman is standing over the corpse of Assassin, the muzzle of his weapon pressed to the forehead of another. The face of the pirate doesn’t show any emotion, but his knuckles are white with the force of his grip on the blowpipe. 

“I’ll take care of him”, I offer, “Can you get close enough to shoot that one?” He looks in the direction I’ve just pointed. Kidd’s inhale is ragged with rage but the voice is nonchalant as if he’s been asked to fetch a bottle of rum from the bar at the tavern, not to crawl across the cliff beside two axemen who can chop him in half in one swing.

“Aye”.

Not waiting for further confirmation, I drop down the ledge, hitting the gunman full force. The crack of his spine makes me cringe, but this time it’s eye for an eye. I stand up from the crumpled body and in one cut severe the rope, tying the hands of the captured Assassin. When he looks at me, I have time only to catch that he is actually she, and then I’m alone. Taking in the surroundings I gather that I'm standing on the small balcony, the corridors of stone structure behind me are silent as a grave. I hop on the railing and leap in the basin at the base of the ruin which, it occurs, is built inside the hill. As I hit water surface, my mind automatically counts ammunition I still carry with me.

Two hidden blades, blowpipe, seven sleeping darts, three - berserk. A pistol and four bullets, but since I’ve just took a dive, those don’t count anymore. A knife hidden in the right boot and two smoke bombs. Not bad, actually. Since this case asks for an extremely high level of caution, it’s for the best that I’ve left my sword at the ship, or it would simply be a bother. 

Resurfacing, I roll into the nearby leaf pile and lure the redcoat watching the cliff with a low whistle. As he comes close enough, my fist meets his gut and then his body meets the pile with nothing but a gentle rustle. Sleep, dear enemy. By the time you come around I hope to be already far away. 

With no one watching the ledge now, Kidd reaches the ground on the upper level of the hill where we came from and hangs above the cliff on the tips of his fingers. I watch his movements from below, ready to shoot anyone who can see him. Painfully slowly he passes the axemen and pulls himself up into the bush at the farthest side of the cliff where the road changes into old stone stairway. From there his blowpipe will reach the sniper I’ve pointed at and all I need to do is get close enough to the watchtower. 

Once again welcoming the Sight, I cautiously navigate my way through the thick bushes and guard patrols, stopping only once to cut the ties on the hands of my crewmembers, who are seated too close to the vegetation to get my rescue attempts spotted. Once all five are freed I slither away and up the small hill, leaving my boys to deal with their captors. The sounds from behind confirm that all three guards were knocked out. Or dead, that’s not what really interests me at the moment.

Finally under the watchtower, I look up to see Kidd crouching in his hiding place with the blowpipe ready. I wait till the sniper goes to the opposite from the ladder side of the platform and start climbing, hoping I won’t be spotted. Now it’s all up to James. As my head emerges above the floor, I see the sniper grasping at his neck and starting to fall sideways. Oh, for fuck’s sake, no! In one insane leap I manage to catch him by the hem of his overcoat and tug back on the platform. If he was to fall down, no doubt his body would be seen and the alarms go off, effectively signing the sentence to all captives. Sleeping jerk! I whack him on the head, enough to punch his lights out for a couple of hours, but not enough to kill.

Now we’re ready to repeat the maneuver, only it’s me up here, once again covering Kidd as he slowly creeps to the second watchtower. He stops twice on the way, freeing my crew and his fellow Assassins as I take out the gunmen from above. Everything seems fine until one of the running captives is spotted by the last sniper. And there it goes haywire. I try to shoot him with the sleeping dart, but the git is running around the platform like a madman and aiming for the Kidd’s hiding place. I can’t aim ‘cause guard’s movements are erratic, so the only option left to me is to take him out manually. 

I strap the pipe to my belt and jump on the ropes connecting two towers. If I don’t keep balance, I will fall down and my bones will be a welcome feast for the jungle predators. If the sniper spots me before I’m on the platform, I will fall down and, whoops, there’s enough for the jaguars to chew on. This nice trail of thoughts specially reserved for walking the wire is broken abruptly when the bullet grazes my side. Luckily, it happens as I take the last jump and fall on the wooden floor. No time for checking the wound, I roll and spring back to my feet, plunging the hidden blade right into the sniper’s neck. Take that, bastard!


	2. Sightseeing in Tulum

I still stand there, trying to catch my breath when Kidd’s head pops up from the ladder. Adrenaline is making me twitchy, so, when he comes closer and steadies me with one hand, my first reflex is to jolt back and I barely can control it.

“These were the last ones”, James says lowly, his hand on my shoulder, eyes watching me warily. “We’ve freed everyone, the hunt is over”. It feels like the weight I never knew was on my shoulders, has been taken away. Instead, exhaustion and pain hit me like the tail of a blue whale. I look down at my side where the coat has already started to change its color from blue to red.

“Good to hear”, I say. “No time like this to fuck off from the island”. The knit of Kidd’s brow somehow tells me he’s not impressed with the wording of my intent.

“We go down and tend to yer side, Kenway. Then we go to the temple, I promised to show ya something. And after that, if you’re still interested, we talk”. With that he starts corralling me to the ladder. Every step starts a small fire in my gut and my head is reeling. 

“Are ya always that bossy, Kidd?”,  I ask with all sass that I can muster at the moment and slide down the ladder. Bad idea. No, it was worst idea ever-r-r. With a stifled groan I try to lower myself to the ground, but he hauls me upright and takes most of my weight onto himself. 

“I can totally go wherever we go myself”. Don’t let go of me. 

“It’s just a scratch, no big deal”. My insides are on fire. He sighs and the furrow of his brow flexes the thin line crossing his cheek. 

“Anyone ever told you you have a re-e-eally nice scar?” Why can’t I manage to keep my mouth shut? Oh hell, I feel equally embarrassed and mortified by that last phrase. Can we just write it off on the blood loss?  

“Shut yer mouth and move yer legs, will ya?” I look at his face and.. what is that? A smirk? Is he laughing at me? Yes, he’s totally laughing. Jerk.

***

The road to the temple lasts as a couple of small forevers and when we reach the destination point I'm not sure I can remember neither where, nor who I am. James is a calming presence by my healthy side and upon seeing a group of Assassins I don't bolt to my ship ‘cause  _ James Kidd is mah mate, gents _ , you won't gut me right in front of him. Or will ya? 

My right side is numb by now and I don't put up a fight when Kidd gently lowers me on the grass. I just mutter “This is going somewhere interesting”, and he knocks me in the head with his blow pipe. 

“Oi”, I decide to voice my protest, “I already might have a bullet in the side, do ya have to add a concussion to the threats to my well-being?” 

“Nothing yer beautiful head can't manage”, he hisses, trying to open the buckles of my overcoat. “How much time fucking Walpole spent on doing and undoing this thing?” Now it's my time to laugh. 

Though my fingers do their best to sabotage this simple task, I unbuckle the overcoat and try to sit to shake it off. On the second try I finally manage to prop myself up with the help of the Kidd’s hands and my clothes finally give him the access to the wound. Even though I will hardly ever confess this to anybody, next half an hour or couple of days is nothing but a blur of pain and even more pain. 

***

When I resurface from the blissful slumber, I find myself lying on the pile of freshly cut palm leaves with my side firmly bandaged and my clothes hanging on the lower branch of nearby tree. Hmm, they look much cleaner than the last time I saw them and the blood stains are gone. Have to thank the kind soul for doing this for me. 

Slowly, holding the bandage in place, I move into sitting position and spot Kidd talking with Adewale some five meters away from me. As if sensing my movement, they turn in unison and hastily come to my makeshift bed. For a minute they stare me down solemnly and I begin to feel nervous. Well, since they want to play their games, 

“What, do I have something on my face?”, shit, my throat is sore and instead of scornful I sound drunk.

“Except that wild beard of yours? Nah, nothing interesting”. Kidd squats near me and hands me a bottle. Water? Nice. 

“Your wound is not serious, the bullet went right through yer side, there's no damage to internal organs. Just a good ol’ blood loss. Nothing ya can't manage, huh?”

Nodding, I empty the bottle and give it back to the pirate. He looks refreshed and clean. In the distance I can see Assassins milling around, no dead bodies in sight. Oblivious to the people beside me I’m lost in my observations and nearly jump when Ade speaks, his voice a rumble of a distant storm:

“You've been out for a while, Cap. We're anchored near the beach now, just waitin’ for you. Kidd said you still have some business here, so we took a chance to have some minor maintenance, but we'll need to stop by to replenish our resources before long. I'll go tell the crew you're with us again and we will be back at the ship waiting”.

I smile, “Thanks, Ade. It won't take long once I'm walking again. Be there shortly”. My quartermaster nods and walks off to the beach. 

“Thanks for taking care of me”, I say, looking into Kidd's dark, unreadable eyes. Shifting makes me only slightly uncomfortable. Bearable. “Didn't know you can sew this good”. He stands, holding out a hand and helping me to my feet. 

“Nah, nothing special. Just wait till it scars. Yer about to have a nastiest scar in the whole Caribbean”. He smirks and for a second my mind goes blank. 

“These people around here won't leave their jobs to ogle your manly man's chest. Go get your clothes and make yerself presentable. We still have business to conclude”. He picks the bottle and swaggers away. 

“Aye, aye, Captain”, I mutter, starting to collect my weapons and clothes. 

***

The feeling of being watched doesn’t leave me as we steadily climb our way back to the stone building.

“Mayan temple”, explains Kidd, “ancient place. Ever been in one?” I just shake my head and try not to spin around like some kind of crazy compass. I carried out Walpole’s betrayal, that man, Ah Tabai said. So I betrayed the Order without even knowing about it. No wonder they watch me like hawks, I’d better leave this place as fast as possible. 

“How come you know about Tulum? Assassins? All this stuff?” I ask, just to take my mind off the nagging feeling of the wrongfulness. As James tells me about his first meeting with Ah Tabai somewhere in Jamaica, we reach the entrance and start our descent down the corridors. We speak about the Creed and even though the concept is still elusive, Kidd tries his best to help me get the essence. Don’t kill the innocents, be unseen, don’t harm the people of the Order. Well, about the last one… 

Before I can formulate the question, we stop in front of the old door covered with intricate carving and some sort of metal locks. Without waiting for James’ clues, I concentrate and let the Sight color the room in blues. Yea, here it is, the locks glow the same way as the stone I gathered from the Mayan ruin. Taking the “key” out of the pouch, I continue my examination. All locks look exactly the same, so I decide not to waste too much time here and stick the stone in the central hole. Something twists, snaps and zings inside the door and one small piece of carving starts shifting.

“The door must open if you manage to procure all twelve”, Kidd says. I turn to the sound of his voice and once more all my senses center on him. The pirate is standing against the wall, black hair spilling over two shades lighter bandana, creating a dark halo around his face. With the sharp jaw, thin lips and long nose, he's no conventional beauty thank you very much, but here in the old catacombs built hundreds years ago he is glowing with unearthly pale light, mysterious smile hiding in the curve of his mouth. Steady drumming of his heart fills my ears and I feel my own heartbeat readjust to match his. 

Kidd smells like the odd mix of grass, gunpowder and sea wind and I drink the sight of him, unsure if such chance will be ever granted to me again by ever-changing Fates. Here, at this moment realisation dawns on me, throwing to hell all reservations I collected through the years and built around me like a turtle shell - I want him. I want James Kidd in my life, in any capacity I can get. I’m so screwed. I’m.. 

He catches my gaze and asks, his tone casual: “What's with the face?” 

Concentration slips away, shattered by his voice, and my heart returns to its own erratic rhythm, pumping the blood faster through my veins and coloring my face red. Oh shite. He pushes away from the wall and comes to stand mere centimeters from me. I am thankful the Sight has left me before this moment or there could be consequences I’m not prepared to face, not now.

“Seems like your wound’s playing tricks on ya, Edward”, Kidd shakes his head and nearly drags me out of the temple. “Still have one more place to show ya and then we leave Tulum”, there’s the certainty in his tone. 

“These days I tend to forget who of us is the Captain, Kidd”, I mutter, not sure what to think of him bossing me around. “Why don’t ya get yourself a ship?” We stop again, this time before a big wooden cage, keeping a black and white dove inside. I squint and manage to catch a glimpse of a small piece of paper tied to one of bird’s legs.

“Cause I’ve got business to take care of, Kenway”, he sighs. “With all the shit going on later, our numbers were diminished greatly. I can’t just forget the Brotherhood and leave everything to merrily sail around.” I close my eyes. Great job, Edward! Kidd opens the cage and takes the paper note from the dove’s leg, setting the bird free, then looks up at me. “Nice way to lift some good money, by the way”. I curse inwardly.

“Where this assignment needs ya?”, I stare at him openly, expectant. James smiles, 

“Caicos. Five weeks”. I clap him on the shoulder and laugh, somewhat relieved. These waters are relatively safe for Jackdaw, we’ll be able to get there in time, no problem. 

“Jackdaw’s at your service, mate, as long as you need it”.


	3. Healing, hunting and a little bit of fighting

The path under Cuba is faster, but Jackdaw’s equipment is far from top notch at the moment and sailing under the mortars of Cabo de Cruz fort means we'll just be asking for trouble, so I lay a safer course to Caicos. We’ll sail past Dry Tortugas, Kidd said its defenses leave us a chance of capturing the fort and there also might be contracts available. Moreover, we’ll need to anchor somewhere small to hunt at some point. Settling for a long journey, I take my time recovering from the wound that English sniper gave me as a parting gift in Tulum. 

The days are filled mostly with sleep, sometimes food and long discussions of the current state of war as my body steadily works on restoring blood supply. At one point I feel confident enough to start training and maybe I overestimate my abilities a little bit. Exhaustion comes too quickly and I almost fall off the upper deck twice, taking not so graceful leaps back to safety. Later that day we encounter a brig filled with wood and sugar nearly to the brim. The loot is so tempting, but I don’t want to risk the damage the enemy ship might inflict slowing us down, so we just sail past it.

***

It’s been five days since we have left the shore and a week since the altercation on Yucatan when we finally reach Dry Tortugas. The fort is small and, evidently, underequipped as we manage to strip them off the arms with relative ease. Kidd says I should be happy their mortars must have been ruined by the storm that passed two nights ago. Thanks god for small miracles. The next phase, however, makes me squirm uncomfortably. Upon our docking the soldiers adopt defensive positions and start trying to pick out my crew, shooting, it seems, from every gun they have in the fort. 

“We’ll lose too many by trying to break through”, I shout to Kidd, who’s watching the future battlefield from the railing. He drops down gracefully, rolling over to cushion the landing and crouches beside me, dark eyes trained on the defenders. 

“Up for a fight?”, he asks me, blowpipe already in hands. Concentration clouds his eyes in opalescent glow, helping to pick the most suitable target.

“Aye”, I agree and do the same. Red figures move erratically on the dock and fortifications alike. “We shoot ‘em with the poison, wait till they panic, then infiltrate. That hole’’, I point at the wall nearly demolished with the cannon blow, “is our best way inside”. Leaving Adewale with the permission to play it by ear if we fail, I send berserk dart in the neck of the axeman standing on the wall. Kidd shoots the gunman on the dock, starting much needed ruckus and we slide down the hull in the warm salty water. My still not healed wound objects violently to the movements, but I push the pain to the back of my mind and swim to the shore, fellow pirate’s bluish form moving rapidly in my peripheral vision.

While the guards on the dock are extremely busy fighting crazed gunman, we get out of the water and sneak towards the breach in the wall. Climbing is no better than swimming, hurting in my side grows stronger as we get across the rubble and into the fort. Men shout and run around, panicking, sounds of shooting echoing in the courtyard. We stay hidden behind an enormous piece of the roof, which must have collapsed with the wall. Kidd glances at me and, grimace on my face must be really intense, whispers:

“Throw the grenade to attract their attention to the yard and go by the fortifications. I’ll freerun and scale the building. Meet me on the upper level”. I nod and rummage in the pouch, grab the smoke bomb and throw it down into the badly bloodied courtyard. At the same moment James takes off and jumps onto the stack of boxes propped against the barn wall. For the next ten or fifteen minutes I sneak, roll and hide, taking my chances to silently knock out the guards standing in my way. 

By the time I reach the upper yard, Kidd is already here and engaged in a fight with the captain of the fort. Man’s left hand is already dripping with blood and he sports a huge bruise corresponding to the shape of James’ fist on the right side of his face. Kidd, on the other hand, looks unharmed and as I sprint towards them, he brings the sword of the captain into a lock with his hidden blade and thrusts the tip of the other one into man’s chest. Seeing that my intervention is neither welcome nor needed, I go directly to the doors of the Dry Tortugas’ main hall, my companion joins me after looting captain’s body.

“Templar”, he spits onto the ground, showing me the ring. 

“His bad”, I agree. We give the signal to the Jackdaw to capture the fort and then Kidd enters the hall. While I go to the barn to count seized resources, James collects accumulated Templar correspondence and we move back to the ship. 

***

For the next two days he almost barricades himself in the privacy of my quarters and spends hours and hours reading, rereading and analysing information. I nearly have to drag him away for eating. He stays on my couch, still up when a doze off and already awake by the time I rise, papers lying around him in disarray. In the afternoon of the second day of his voluntary seclusion I find Kidd sprawled on the couch fast asleep, face down, letters clutched tightly in left hand. The ties of his bandana must’ve came undone at some point and now I can’t even see his face behind the curtain of jet-black hair. I shake my head and wander off. These papers must contain really important information for the Order, I wonder. 

When I come back in to grab a nap four or five hours later, the place is empty and papers are nowhere in sight. Still, I observe the cabin more closely and - here it is! The lid of the chest where I store my belongings is closed, which I never do. Upon further inspection I find the letters tied in a bundle under the spare set of clothes. I close the chest back, this time using key, and go to sleep. Kidd will wake me up if he needs them again.

***

Ten days into the journey we encounter a small archipelago. Kidd, who went back to the habit of disappearing somewhere on the ship from early hours of the day, scurries up the mast like the monkey and watches the ground grow closer from the masthead. 

“Animals”, he shouts down, “good for hunting”.Without a doubt, he uses Sight to assure the presence of life forms. We search for a good place to drop the anchor and when the day starts to grow old, my foot touches solid ground again. My crew finds a source of water and mill around happily, replenishing the supply and drinking. I catch myself just standing here, looking at them and smiling. 

“Fine lads they are”, comes from behind me and my smile grows even bigger. James Kidd is standing in the shallow water, his hair freed from the bounds of red bandana and flapping around his face like crow’s wings. Wind plays with the rising tide and warm drops settle on his bare skin. Most of his clothes lie on the palm stump broken by the recent storm. In Kidd's arms rests a harpoon, sharp blade glistening in the early evening sun. 

“What's with all the smiles, Kenway? Tryin’ to seduce the sea?” I shake my head in good humor and can't help but come back with the retort:

“Not with my nasty scar, thanks to you”, I tease him, “the world shall never again see me in the state of undress”. The man starts laughing, waiving his harpoon around and I share my observation with him:

“Never thought about ya as the fisherman, mate”. Well, recently I've had all kinds of other fine thoughts, but those you don't need to know. “You didn't even bother to come up from the quarters when we were fighting with that shark yesterday, and now you're stabbing small fish in the shallows?” I was so excited to show you the catch and you just slept through all the fun. Dammit. 

“Not everything in life is about size, Edward!”, he shouts and stabs a silver fish with his tool with the quickness of the panther. I nearly choke on my next phrase, already forgotten. What? Where did  _ that _ came from? Feeling the rush of blood to my face, I wave at him and hurry back to my crew. Wind continues to carry Kidd's cheerful laughter across the shore for a long, long minutes. 

***

Day goes by and at some moment as I sit on the fallen tree on this god forsaken island in the middle of nowhere, it dawns on me. Maybe this is what I've been searching for my whole life. No, not the island. And clearly not this tree, one of its broken branches is mercilessly digging in my spine, making me shift and fall off on the warm evening sand. Kidd is sitting a couple of meters away, laughing at me, the git, and his scar moves, amplifying a smile on his face. Which turns into a smirk. I just groan, hoping it would sound more exasperated than interested. Improper. That damn smirk is going to be the end of me. 

He rolls his eyes, looking so at ease, so calm and without a care for the world in the last rays of setting sun. I rarely have a chance to see the pirate like this, without the burden his Creed had laid on him. But still, he follows it, not simply goes with the flow of his life as I did for the last year, James chooses to abide by the way of Assassins and finds comfort in it. Maybe, I should try too, commit to the Creed. And maybe it will give me something in return. Yea, money, that too, but, most importantly, purpose I've been lacking for my whole life. 

Kidd breaks my pondering by throwing a stick at me. It hits me right on the head and gets stuck in my messy hair. Jerk! He just laughs again, a bottle in his hand, speaking low enough I have to strain my hearing to get it. 

“Hey, you are surprisingly silent, Kenway. What bothers ya?”

He shifts on the sand, propping himself up on the elbow and stares me right in the eyes. I take a moment to collect my thoughts. 

“I think, I want to help ya with that Assassin thing. To tell the truth, there's nothing left for me back there”, my hand points somewhere North, “the King, the Kingdom, fuck it all. I like it here, thank you very much. Gonna go back to Great Inagua, rebuild the place, maybe call it home one day.” 

“You said, I could do better, be better, that the Sight was given to me not without the reason. Is that so? What am I here for? How can I follow your Creed and not put everyone in danger again? I’m not even sure why I’m still alive. I still don't get a lot of things, mate. But I think you guys do, most importantly, you do. And for the moment it have to be enough”.

I keep going on, agitated, hands combing through my hair and pooling more strands loose from the low ponytail. I might be ranting for whole ten minutes, my mind going empty and blank, but still unable to stop, when Kidd stands up in one fluid motion and comes near me, one tan hand adjusting the red of his bandana, while the other is placed on his hip. He stares at me intently from his vantage point, his gaze solemn and piercing at once. Then, in a blink of an eye his smirk is back again and, as he falls beside me on the cooling sand of some unnamed piece of land in the middle of Carribean, his head practically in my lap, he sing-songs in amused voice:

“Oi, cut it, Edward. Whatever you do, I'm on yer side, as long as you don't go Walpole on us”. 

I freeze for a second, not knowing how to react to his words and actions. Humor in the threat is obvious, but he's right, I've done enough for them to gut me on the first sight. And still, Kidd believes in me. Warmth spreading in my chest makes me uncomfortable. It's been so long since someone trusted in me, lifetimes away. This man deserves best of what I can and even cannot do. For some time we just lie there on the sand, each lost in his own thoughts, not touching, but close enough.

“Nah. His name didn't suit me anyway”, I break the silence. Pirate’s throaty laugh takes me by surprise:

“But his suit surely does. Brings out yer eyes rather nicely, Kenway”. He winks at me and walks off to a newborn bonfire on the farther side of the beach to settle for the night. I stay here in the growing darkness and absolutely, devastatingly don't know what to do with this feeling, bubbling in my chest. 

***

As the second watch rises up to replace the first, I wake and assemble my weapons. Yesterday Kidd informed me about the wild boar population inhabiting the farther and the biggest island of archipelago. I test hidden blades, equip the pistols and blow pipe. The swords are once again left on the ship, they are not really useful in both hunting the game and fighting predators. The night is dark and cold under the overcast sky, but I can use it to my advantage. 

Concentrating, I slip in a well-known world of shades of indigo, my surroundings now a monochrome picture decorated with pale figures of the Jackdaw crew sleeping or on the lookout. One of the sleeping men is more notable, glowing with a soft azure light, flickering in the rhythm of his heartbeat. I come closer, letting the familial scent of ocean, overpowered by the smell of grass and gunpowder fill my lungs. Squatting beside Kidd's prone body curled nearly in a ball, I put my hand on his shoulder and shake a little. His head jerks up, eyes open immediately, wide and alert. 

“I'm out for a hunt. Wanna join in?” Right now, not completely awake, but nevertheless ready for combat, he's a sight to behold. The sharp line if his jaw seems even more pronounced in the contrast with the dark material of the jacket he's using as a pillow. The scar crossing his eye shifts as the pirate squints to get a better picture of me. I want to trace it with my fingers, but value them too much to actually do it. James’ heart beats erratically, pumping the adrenaline through his blood. It's drumming in my ears as I squeeze his arm, which is pressing the blunt side of his hidden blade to my Adam's apple. I marvel at his reflexes, standing up, letting both of us to adjust. Kidd - to the abrupt awakening, myself - to the urge to kiss him. Unwise. 

“No time as good as this”, Kidd says, voice groggy, as he languidly stretches on the sand, relaxing stiff muscles. “Go ahead, I'll catch up with ya in a moment”. I shake the stunning image of him away, though deep inside I know it's burnt in my memory forever now, and walk off, nodding once. 

***

We crouch close to each other in the shadow of the bushes, watching our prey intently, the Sight is helping us see in the darkness of moonless night. It took nearly an hour to get to the small forest and another one to find the animals. The boars are quite big, their crests nearly reaching Kidd’s mid-thigh, it seems the couple of carcasses is our best bet. We decide not to use darts, no need to poison future food, so we start to round up the animals. Already  prepared to strike, James stops his gaze at me for a moment. I see him tilt his head to the right as he bites on the lower lip, eyes go unfocused, when a large blurry blotch of crimson red colors the pile of stones behind him. A jaguar! 

My body moves on instinct; before I can even comprehend it, I throw myself before the fellow hunter. His body is covered only by the usual attire; shirt and jacket, no matter how sturdy, won’t prevent predator’s teeth from sinking into his unprotected flesh. I, on the other hand, am fully armored, so when the big cat’s fangs meet my upper arm, raised in defencive gesture, instead of cutting through the skin, they grind on the thick brace without harming me. As the animal tries to break away, Kidd’s hidden blade dissects its neck and spine without resistance. Blood from the cut artery sprays us both and he grimaces, pushing the jaguar carcass away. 

The boars are long gone, sudden movements and consequent fight must’ve scared them off. Not in the mood, and in my case, not in my still healing state, we decide to abandon the hunt and get back to the beach. We take turns carrying the prey and, our pace brisk, reach the camp in about an hour. The fourth watch is already milling around, boiling water and cooking simple breakfast as the sun slowly spills over the horizon in the East. While I drop the carcass for my crew to bleed out and butcher, Kidd walks off to the shoreline and starts stripping off his bloodied clothes. Perching on the fallen tree I too take off my overcoat and inspect it closely. 

Most of the chest and right sleeve are smeared with blood and need washing. Well, if I’m going to get wet, I need to be careful with the scar on my side, it’s still pretty new and tender. Leaving my clothes in a pile near the tree, I enter shallow water and start to wash the bloodstains away. I’m really concentrated on the task and Kidd’s absent voice takes me by surprise.

“Thanks for the cover”, he says, his mind is clearly elsewhere too, “I got distracted for a second back there”. I turn around to look at him. Water whirls around his knees, attracting attention of fish spawns; eastern wind unsuccessfully tries to pry a strand of coal-black hair free from the grasp of red bandana. Rising sun colors his skin dark gold and James is glowing even outside of the Sight. Another moment to remember. I chuckle, 

“Never mind. Why don't we find you something more protective, though? Can your assignment spare you a couple of days for us to sail by Nassau? I'd offer Havana, but there we can get stuck for much longer. What do you think?” Kidd shakes his head,

“I need to be on Caicos in three weeks time. It's pretty urgent, ya see. Especially with all new info we’ve managed to get our hands on”. I nod, business is business. 

“We'd better try to catch the tailwind then”. We finish washing our clothes and ourselves, then settle on the beach in comfortable silence, waiting for the lads to load the resources on the ship under the strict command of Adewale. Before the sun has fully risen, we're once again cutting through the waves to our destination. 


	4. Running down to Caicos

During the course of the next week we establish our daily routine: I take the helm with the beginning of the dawn, discussing ship business with Ade, sometimes Kidd joins us, sometimes not, preferring the solitude of the masthead to the rambunctious singing of my crew. On fifteenth day in the sea, when sudden melancholy grips me with uncanny force, I join the song. As my voice breaks over lowlands away, I can feel his eyes on me and simply know that his irises have that soft opalescent gleam of the Sight. I wonder how the world looks like for him now? Is the rustle of wind in the sails deafening? Not completely, it seems, as the feeling of being watched doesn't leave me till the end of the shanty.

When the sun reaches zenith I usually hand the helm over to my quartermaster and climb up the rails to the masthead and for a couple of hours we speak. The themes are always different: the weather, the Creed, ship business, books, sea. Sometimes he brings up the letters, confirming the spread of Templar reach to Nassau. 

“Chinese captain”, he says, “really proficient. The rumors are she’s working with the smugglers”. I offer him to follow this lead after we drop him at Caicos, as I have no pressing matters at the moment. He agrees without hesitation, leaving me directions of the Bureau to start from and I feel elated by his trust even though I don’t belong to the Order. 

We also talk about our pasts and I once again confess that the idea of going back to the England completely lost its appeal somewhere between Tulum and our short respite ashore. Kidd tells me about his childhood and the reasons why he left royal Navy. Sometimes we let the silence linger, satisfied simply by each other's presence. 

***

Evenings are reserved for training. I continue my workouts as we leave the archipelago, gradually rising the difficulty of the tasks. Five days later I still feel the strain, but it doesn’t stop me from the usual routine and I desperately need to get rid of the tension building up since Tulum. At first I spar with Ade, but our fighting is too destructive for the ship. Slashes and cuts from his machete are to be repaired on the next docking, Adewale tells me I need a proper fighting partner and shouts to Kidd, who’s sitting in his usual spot above the sails to, here I cite, “come down and rub this smug expression from Cap’s face”. The pirate slides down the railing and looks at me from top to toe.

Our first sparring is cautious as we learn each other's moves not from the point of allies fighting side by side, but as opponents. It quickly becomes clear that Kidd prefers to rely heavily on the weapon suiting his agility and cunning - hidden blades, while I’m much better at swords, putting enough force in every slash or stab to incapacitate, if not to kill the opponent. In real battle, that is. So we take a break when the rain spills on us just after the sunset and spend the rest of the evening in my quarters discussing the fight.

The next couple of days we adjust, trying new unexpected approaches and both more focused on the tactics, than on real offence. Somehow both of us refrain from using the Sight, I because it will be more like an obstacle with James in close proximity, my senses attuned to his presence. I’m not actually sure why he chooses to go into battle unaided by the ability, but see no reason to point it out. We continue to learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses. I happen to put too much power into hidden blades attacks nearly damaging them and at some point Kidd wonders how I manage not to break the metal. I'm thankful he's not asking where I got them. James himself turns out to be completely out of his comfort zone when it comes to dual wielding and I nearly collapse laughing while he tries to control both swords and ends up with one deep in the deck and another stuck in the scabbard. 

While trying to pull the weapon from the clutches of the deck, I come to the conclusion: we both need not just practice, we need to learn. It doesn’t take me long to turn it to an offer:

“Hey, mate”, I grunt, finally pulling the sword free, “would you mind explaining some things about these baldes to me? Not the Assassin’s secrets and such, just mechanics so I don’t bend or break them. Well, if that’s taboo of sorts, it’s fine. Don’t wanna get you into even more trouble with your Mentor man.” I turn the weapon around, inspect the blade for cracks and point at Kidd in pretend accusation:

“By the way, no dual wielding for ya, at least not with swords and definitely not with that bloody cutlass of yours”, he smiles ruefully but doesn’t interrupt me, so I continue. “Actually, with that flexibility and speed a rapier and a parrying dagger could be more suited to your fighting style, if you ever need to go into close combat undisguised. They rarely have a chance to see you before the strike, huh?” Kidd hums in agreement, taking his practice weapon from me and runs a hand through his hair. A moment of consideration and he nods in the direction of my quarters:

“I’ve been training with the Order for a long time, Kenway”, he tells me unconsciously rubbing the scar under his eye, “and if you’ve got your pair just a year ago, you are a quick learner. But you’re big, all about the power of the strike, not precision and the Assassin’s way is not a bar brawl. Well, usually.” He gives me a thoughtful look and smirks, going on, “I’m sure you’ll be able to turn anything in one if you’re in the mood”. I growl, exasperated, and nearly shove him into my living space, mock offence on my face. Something akin to well concealed interest passes his features as I ask him in low voice: 

“You’d rather watch me talk my enemies to death?” Kidd laughs and pulls me into the room. The door creaks, closing behind my back, cutting us from the rest of the world. I watch him move, barely noticing his dilated pupils and erratic breathing behind the thunderous pumping of my own heart. He takes a step back, his hips bumping into the deck in the middle of the room. I follow suit and we’re almost pressed to each other. My hands lie on the table on both sides of James’ body as I lean to his ear, scraping his jaw with my beard, and whisper hoarsely “What would you want me to do?” 

Kidd’s breath hitches and he swallows sharply, but before he can answer or do anything, loud crash rocks the ship and the next moment we both are running out on the deck, searching for the source of the explosion. What we see is a frigate, its sails crimson red, preparing to ram Jackdaw. Pirate hunters! I sprint to the helm, Adewale already by my side, and Kidd climbs up the railing to get a better view of the enemy ship. 

The naval battle is short, we’re lucky today. A huge cannon ball blasted from Jackdaw’s mortar breaches the hull of the frigate and breaks masts, leaving sails to hang limply, unable to catch the wind. We’ve only got some minor damage and one sail is torn by the stray cannonball, nothing bad enough to hinder. The abordage is almost bloodless but some poor soul must have decided to take us down by blowing up the whole ship and we barely manage to escape in time.

The accident sends all citizens of Jackdaw, as Ade often says, on the adrenaline high and as we catch the wind and continue our way to Caicos I can hear singing and laughter and celebrating from all over the ship. I and James meet again later that evening, settling on the crates at the nose of the brig, and even though my gaze is glued to the place on his right cheek where the white line of the scar merges with stubble burn, we don’t talk about what’d transpired in my quarters. Instead, we discuss the techniques of hidden blade and hand to hand combat. 

***

Four weeks into the journey we once again occupy the masthead, my quarters are unpronounced forbidden territory now. It rains, but we still don't go down to lower decks to hide from bad weather. Instead James hands me a bottle, we take take turns sipping rum that warms our insides and then he sings. 

“Here's a health to the company…”, his voice is strong and steady as he goes on and I join him on the chorus. The rain doesn't seem so cold anymore while we sit shoulder to shoulder and stare in the grayness of overcast sky. 

These weeks I have been to a lot of learning. Assassin's ways, Templar’s plots, the need to find the Observatory is still nagging at my brains, but for entirely different reasons now. In some selfish sense I don't want us to arrive to Caicos, ruining fragile tie connecting me and Kidd. However, I know that wanting the impossible won't lead me to any good. And, while “having all the money in the world” has been tagged unwise inside my head along with returning to England, the idea of getting Kidd all to myself somehow is getting more sound with each passing day. 

“...For we may or might never all meet here again”, coming to the end of the song, we finish the bottle. Sighing, I slide down the masthead, nearly lying now on the wet wood with my head upturned to the grey clouds. I let the drops fall on my face and spread both hands wide, trying to embrace the stormy sky. Instead, my left arm collides with Kidd's torso and somehow ends up lying on his waist. I feel him move down a bit, turning slightly so he can use my body for support instead of the mast. I can feel James muscles relax, letting his head rest on my chest. We stay like this for a long time, completely drenched but content. Silent. Happy? I know this moment will pass and stay only in my memory, but right now, when Kidd and I lie nearly in a loose embrace, it doesn’t matter. 

James Kidd is an enigma that I want to solve much more than any of those Mayan puzzles. I bet, the prize will be, as it was once said,  _ worth my while.  _

***

We arrive to Caicos ten hours later under the veil of the moonless night. I took the helm upon closing to the island and Kidd is standing beside me, his lips a thin line and shoulders tense.

“This shouldn't take me long”, he lets out a huff, “a week in the worst case, then I'll find me a ship and join you in Nassau”. I nod, not taking my eyes off thin passage between the rocks that we need to get through, my Sight helping me to see in almost impenetrable darkness. The pirate looks agitated, but by what I cannot tell. Maybe it's his target that worries him or maybe he just have to steal something important, or something else. 

When we finally squeeze through the rock formation, he speaks again. “Can I ask you to do me a favor?”. As I nod again, stealing a glance at him, he continues:

“Take the letters with ya, hide them somewhere safe until we have a chance to use them to our advantage. Will you…” 

“I was going to swing by Great Inagua first”, I interrupt him, “invest in some upgrades of the property, good harbor and a tavern maybe. Our water supply is running low, so replenishing our resources is in order too. I'll hop by the house and hide the letters in the storage, then we will go to Nassau to deal with those Chinese empress of the sea. How does it sound?”

We're almost at the pier, so James claps me on the shoulder in agreement, takes his belongings and rushes to the nose of the ship. Jackdaw slows its movement and we nearly stop but don't dock, giving Kidd just enough time to jump ashore, and set the sails again. As we sail past  him, he raises a hand in farewell and says:

“Don't do anything stupid, Kenway. I'll see ya in Nassau, ten days from today the latest. Preferably, alive and in one piece”. We pass him by and even if he'd said something else, it was swept away by the wind. I can still feel his heartbeat for a minute more and then it fades away, leaving me to lay a new course to Great Inagua. 


	5. Interlude at Great Inagua

The wind seems to decide on helping us to close the distance between Caicos and Great Inagua in the shortest time possible and in another forty two hours we go ashore. Leaving Jackdaw in Ade’s capable hands I take the correspondence we've stolen from Templars along with some money and hurry to the manor on the cliff. It's strange to think it's mine now, but the realization makes me smile nevertheless. The island’s outskirts are silent in the night, only a few windows lit as I pass small wooden houses creeping on each other. 

Climbing steep stairs that were cut right in the body of the hill, I come to the porch and open old doors. The place will need some renovations of its own, but settlement comes first. Through living room I enter huge study, its large windows allowing panoramic views of the bay and coastline, and drop down into the storage through the trapdoor hidden by an enormous red carpet. The previous owner of this place must've had a passion for big things. I wonder what Kidd would say about it, his sassy comment back from the evening on the archipelago is still fresh in my memory. 

I lit the lantern and make my way through the corridors, looking for the most inconspicuous place to stash the letters. The only thing I can hear beside my footsteps and calm breathing is the sound of the sea somewhere far away. Now and then I see rats scurry into darkness, scared by my presence, and I think of Assassins who are from now on forced to be on high alert even at their headquarters in Tulum. The idea is already forming in my head when I stumble onto perfect spot to place the papers - a huge stack of crates filled with sugar cover a small hole in the brick wall of the basement. I take the letters out and gently wrap them in leather to shield from unfavorable conditions, put the bundle into the hole and close it with crates. This will do for now. Coming up from the storage I fall onto the couch in the living room and sleep comes to me easily.

***

Nine hours later I wake up exhausted, sun already well past zenith, and take my time to get cleaned up. After more than a month at the sea I can't sleep well without the rocking of the ship. Refreshed and sporting neatly trimmed beard I exit the house and go down to the village, no time as good as this to get some construction works started. 

To find the man who's in need of a certain financial help to build a sturdy harbor is not a problem, he also happen to know someone willing to open the shop on the island. I beckon Adewale to join us and we spend a good couple of hours on planning and calculations. By the end of the day the chest in my quarters gets thinner for seventeen thousand reales, we also leave a great amount of metal and wood for building on the shore and the life on Great Inagua gets significantly busier. 

We leave the dock in the middle of the night, promising to get back to check on the building process in a month. As the ship dances on the waves, the idea from yesterday night takes form - I plan to offer Kidd a place for Assassins on my island. I will be more than happy to have him by my side, and if I am to pay for it with having an island crawling with deadly people, well, so be it. They deserve the contribution for their unintended exposure. 


	6. Devils in the detail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since here in my homeland we have a tradition of bringing treats to classes or work when we have birthdays, I've decided to give you guys a small kiddway-shaped present too (:

Jackdaw is docked at Nassau without any empty fuss. I let my men know that they are free to rest for at least two days and make my way to tavern, no better place to find the best gossip in town. The place is crawling with people in a different states of drunkenness and the thought of joining them is very tempting, but I remember the promise I've given to Kidd, to get a wind of what's going on on the island and cleanse it from the Templar presence. So I just come by bartender and have him pour me a pint. For the next few minutes I nurse the mug in the left hand, while the steady trickle of reales from my right to bartender’s provides me with a number of ideas about where I can start my search in case local Assassins are not informed of what's going on under their noses. If I were to speak out loud, my words would be oozing with sarcasm, I swear. Smugglers, who would've thought?

Leaving nearly untouched alcohol in the hands of some drunken sailor I set off in the direction of the Bureau, humming the shanty that  stuck into my head. Steadily walking up the streets of Nassau, I watch people pass me by. Young and old, broke and quite wealthy, men and women alike they go on with their lives unaware about the ages long battle of secret orders threatening to paint the streets of the town they own with blood. This thought unsettles me and I speed up, cutting through the market and ignoring impossibly tempting smell of freshly cooked food. My stomach growls, demanding something more nourishing than usual sailor's ration, but there's time for food and there's time for work. Now it's the latter. As I reach the last “Put him in the brig until he's sober”, old wooden door of Assassin's Bureau rises right before me.

Knocking, I open it and enter the small room. A man in a brown variation of Ah Tabai’s robes raises his head from the letters lying on the uneven wooden table and stares at me questioningly. I take in his appearance, not old, but definitely not too young either, he looks around thirty something, muddy brown eyes now squinted and suspicious, lips frozen in a frown. Just as he starts standing up, he tells me that they (who?) are closed at the moment and I offer,

“I'm looking for Upton Travers”. His brows rise up, eyes suddenly locked on my braces, containing hidden blades and his frown transforms into unnaturally welcoming smile as he introduced himself as Mr. Travers. Something tells me I really shouldn't trust this man, so instead of telling him about the letters and Chinese Templar, I opt for asking him about the key, not Templar, no, just a key with round holder, crossed on the inside. Was contracted to find one, given this address and name, a quickly made up thing. He nods gingerly and feeds me some story of his own, filled with smugglers and theft. In the end I'm being offered to inspect the address and get rid of the gang leader who apparently has the key. This whole situation stinks and needs proper investigation so I thank “Mr. Travers” and take my leave. Back on the street my stomach once again is demanding normal food, so I go back to the market, deciding on grabbing something for dinner while looking for the “smugglers”.

***

Finding my target turns out to be not so easy task as I have thought. Three hours later I'm finally full and satisfied, at least in relation to food, but no closer to finding what's happening at Nassau than a month before. Deciding on taking a different approach, I climb up the nearest house and let monochromatic version of the world take over my vision. Most people are just a grey mass down here, two red blurry spots are patrolling the street downtown, and… What's that?

In a yard two blocks up the street, hidden behind the high fence, I see an orange figure - a target. More men, red blotches on the dark blue landscape seem to be the very same smugglers “Mr. Travers” was so upset with. Well, now I have a direction, time to finally sort some things out. I don't go down to the street, but take the roof path instead. Once close enough to the guarded zone I steel myself, hiding behind the chimney and shoot the sniper from the roof on the opposite side of the road with the sleeping dart. Path cleared, I run up the tree, its branches thick and broad, connecting my and sniper’s hiding places. Knocking him out I let myself look around. From the vantage point I can see my target more clearly and the feeling of wrongness intensifies tenfold.

The man wears dark maroon robes indistinguishable from Ah Tabai’s. Or “Mr. Travers”. I crawl nearly to the edge of the roof and catch a glimpse of the man's face. It can't be! Oh, Kidd, what have we gotten into? I'm absolutely sure I've just seen the face of a man from the Bureau. The same? No, they must be twins. But how to approach him? Wait till he's alone? An option, but I don't feel like waiting at the moment so when he walks past me below, I drop down in front of him.

“Mr. Travers, I suppose?” His face is full of surprise and alarm, dark brown eyes watch me as suspiciously as his brother's.

“Might as well be one”, he answers, fingers flexing in all too familiar gesture. I'm not in a good mood for fighting. “And who are you? We didn't invite anyone to our meeting”. I see three more men coming us, hands ready to retrieve the weapons. I decide on honesty. Partial, at least.

“Your brother was so kind and gave me the invitation”, I let the tip of my hidden blade to show, a demonstration of belonging to the Order. Even though this man has a clear advantage on me at least in numbers, my gut doesn't raise alarms. And my Sight slowly changes his color from bright orange to dark blue. Ah, an ally. He gives his men a sign and they back off; out of hearing range but not out of sight. Then the man extends his calloused hand and as we're locked in a handshake, introduces himself,

“Upton Travers at your service, Brother. Why Vance had sent you to me?” Hm, what a turn. I glance at him once more. Yes, ally. Well, let's play it by ear.

“Name’s Edward. I sailed to Nassau because a certain document came into possession of a mate of mine. It states that a Chinese pirate arrived here three months before in search of some treasure. She's confirmed to be a Templar, not of the highest rank, but very influential”. The look on Upton’s face is pure disbelief, as he exclaims,

“My brother's mixed up with the wrong sort? No, he would never!” Perfect. Either he's deep in denial land, or there's something else I don't know about. “I may not like her, yes, but to assume she is a Templar simply because of some letter? Vance wouldn't marry a Templar!” Interesting.

“If your “she” is the very same “she” our letter is about, then the lady is confirmed to be a Templar. Well, why don't we find her out and take a look?” Upton is agitated, clearly disturbed by the situation. “Is there something she might want from him?” His gaze suddenly darkens. Uh-oh, seems like there's trouble in paradise.

“There is one thing”, he says gravely, “a map. We've bought it some time ago and split into two, wanted to find the place one day after retirement and dig up the treasure”. He looks me in the eyes like a lost dog, “Vance has started asking me to give the second piece to him not long ago. Said that we need to hide the map somewhere, that it would be better than taking it everywhere with us”. Here it is, the pirate queen must want the treasure to herself and lured Upton’s brother into marrying her to get to the map. Clever.

“I will go and talk to Vance”, and now I can see determination in his eyes.

“Your brother sent me here to kill you. So you think it would be wise to go talk to him?”

“I need to know. However”, he watches me questioningly, “could you accompany me? Not openly, of course. I really don't want to believe my brother wants me dead, but…”

“Better safe than sorry”, I finish for him. “Let's get moving then”.

***

A couple of hours later I find myself on the roof of the house opposite to the Bureau, eternally grateful for the early evenings of Caribbeans. The darkness has already set in, hiding me in shadows of tree crowns and making the upcoming mission much more easier.

Before coming here Upton sent his men to continue with their own business and then we spent quite some time to plan the path he and his brother Vance would follow. I found some really good bushes and dark corners to hide in case I need to come down from the roofs to get closer and then we made a wide detour to the Bureau, not wanting to be accidentally seen together by the younger Travers.

Once Upton comes to the old door and knocked, I let the Sight invade my vision and mark Vance as my target. As they slowly walk along the prescribed route, I feel uneasy, something is wrong. The moment a man jumps up the roof beside me and starts for the ledge hanging over the street, I know it - little Travers has decided to be on the safe side and recruited someone else to help his brother rest in peace. My movements are precise and fast as I knock failed murderer out. I silently thank kidd for his tips about the hidden blade technique and slide down to the tree branch connecting two roofs. Neither Upton, nor Vance hear me move.

***

Two more unsuccessful killing attempts and forty minutes later we arrive to the end of the planned path just as the more or less civilized dialogue spirals down into an argument. I drop down from the roof and make my way through the bushes to Travers brothers.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! Just give me a goddamn map!” Vance seems to start losing his temper.

“I have no intention to do so. This Jing Lang is a bad influence on you, brother. You’ve simply became obsessed with her and the map. Calm down, it doesn’t worth it!” I try to get closer to Upton and ready myself for the strike that is to come. I can see it in the Vance’s face. And he stabs his brother, not with the hidden blade, but with words that seem to hurt the older one no less.

“You have no right to order me and decide with whom I can or cannot be! I will marry Jing Lang soon and give her the map as a present. And if you won’t give me the second half voluntarily, I’ll take it from your cold corpse!” With that he turns sharply and disappears into the shadows. Hell, without the help of the Sight I wouldn’t manage to even catch a glimpse of him running away. The situation is getting more and more dangerous.

I stand up and make my way towards Upton, who is still standing in the middle of an empty street, completely lost. Before I have a chance to say something, he blinks, looks at me and mumbles,

“I need some time to think about it”, his face is blank, hands curled into fists, “let’s meet tomorrow at the tavern, I will come up with the decision by then”. And once again, before I even say a word, he leaves. The idea of letting him wander the streets of Nassau alone when his brother clearly declared a war doesn’t sit well with me so I track him down and follow up till he settles in the safest corners of the tavern. At least he’s still vigilant.

***

Exhaustion is starting to get to me, so I settle too in the quite cosy and wide branch hanging over the tavern roof and start to doze off. Not really sleeping, I shift now and then, taking short breaks from my observations to take a leak or make sure the area is safe. By five in the morning the sun begins to rise and my naps get troubled. I feel like someone is watching me, but don’t sense any danger, so I decide to round the tavern once again and go talk to Upton. Just as I hop over to the roof, the movement on my right sets my instincts in motion and I roll and twist, grabbing the attacker, shoving him face first into the wooden planks and sit on top of the captive. Then painfully familiar red bandana captures my attention and I curse,

“Kidd, for fuck’s sake, what are ya doin’ here? Wanna give me a heart attack?” I set his arms free and let him turn, though he’s still under me but for the moment I don’t care for the position we’re in, too high on the adrenaline. I continue to stare him down, his face serene as if he didn’t pounce me just a minute ago, a thin line of the scar crossing his cheek attracts my attention momentarily. Kidd’s eyes, however, are sparkling with mischief and something else, darker and primal and before I know I start leaning down.

‘Well, aren’t ya excited to see me, Kenway?”, as the double meaning begins to sink in, I freeze, my face mere centimeters from his and something is straining my pants enough to cause discomfort. “I thought you’d miss me”. I shift a little and that’s enough to feel that he’s similarly aroused. Well, two can play this game, so I finally lean down to his ear and answer in a low voice,

“Glad to _feel_ it’s reciprocated”. He exhales sharply and turns to me, eyes wide and wild and I take a chance. My hand slides to the nape of his neck and I kiss him hard, unrelenting and cannot hold back a hiss when Kidd’s teeth graze my lower lip.

The sound of shattering glass down at the bar breaks our mouth away from each other, but his hands are on my sides, one palm lying protectively over the place where now is the scar left from recent wound, the other is still holding me close. I’m still sitting on top of him, propped up on the right hand for better support. We try to catch our breaths and I stifle a laugh, remembering just where we were making out a moment ago. Early morning, the roof of the tavern with an ocean view, target sitting down by the bar. Romance on the high seas, my ass! I drop my head in the crook of Kidd’s neck and convulse in silent laughter, feeling his hand drag up and down my spine.

Finally calming down, I roll off him and see James sit up and readjust his bandana, small smile still on his lips. I crawl to the edge of the roof and look to where Travers Senior continues drinking himself under the table. Time to stop him before he kills himself with alcohol poisoning. I shake my head and go back to Kidd. Fellow pirate just quirks his right brow questioningly, so I retell him recent developments related to the status of Assassins in Nassau and the latest predicament of Upton Travers. He listens to me intently and when I finish, offers,

“We need to get him from the streets and to the safehouse until we deal with Vance. Eh, wouldn’t see him sell himself to Templars, but people change.”

“You know them?”, I ask, interested.

“We are acquainted, but nothing more. You very well know, I work in lots of places, never had somewhere to stop for longer than a week. But they seemed good people. And now we have count one out. Not the best timing”. He seems genuinely upset by this and so am I. Assassins took a hard blow and now once again one of their kind is mingling with Templars.

“Let’s get Upton to the safehouse then and I’ll take care of Vance and his Lady Darling”, we drop down from the roof on the back of the tavern and start walking towards Travers. “By the way, how did you get here so fast?”, I wonder, Kidd must’ve left Caicos no later than three days after we brought him there.

“The target got really careless”, he offers noncommittally, “and then some trader Bonnet, a friend of yours I reckon, kindly agreed to stop by Nassau on his way to Florida”.

“Ah, Stede! Nice lad, he is”, as I give in to the memories of our first meeting at Cape Bonavista, we reach Upton and haul him away. The man recognizes Kidd even though he is ridiculously drunk and starts lamenting about his stupid little brother and Templars trying to seduce him from the right path. With James nodding vigorously and me singing merrily to cover the words, we pass two patrols. Just as he tells me that we're near the hideaway, Upton decides to take a leak on the main street and it takes both me and Kidd to shove him in the darkness of the small passage nearby. Unable to get on with Travers’ drunk antics anymore, I knock him out and throw over the shoulder like a sack full of bones, giving Kidd a sign to lead on.


	7. Some rest for the wicked

In a joint effort we manage to make Upton sober up enough to listen to us and understand. 

“Sorry, mate, but Templar Lady has to die and, I'm afraid, your brother too, or he will kill you instead”, Kidd's voice is gentle, his face solemn. 

“I… I know, I knew it was inevitable, but still hoped… I can't do this to him. I just can't!” He looks ill, the thought of losing brother he clearly loves causes him too much pain. I clap him on the shoulder and head out from the room. 

“I'll get it done. Kidd, will you stay with him?” I take a look back and he nods, eyes tired. Whatever happened between him and me on the tavern roof is personal and now we are at work, doing grim things that are greater than both of us. We'll talk later, if we're still alive. 

“Deal with him and come get me. The Lady might have something up her sleeve, we'd better not underestimate her”. It's my turn to nod in acceptance and then I head out in the streets of Nassau, looking for a traitor of the Order and his family. 

***

Wandering the streets of Nassau towards the northern beach where smugglers usually trade their catch, I catch a glimpse of the dark grey bird, carrying something shining on her leg. Assassin's contracts come to mind immediately and I'm torn between following the bird and continuing the search for Vance. Then I almost stop, reminding myself that I have to get rid of Templar influence on the island first, all other contracts need to be left for later. Money is not the aim, but means. 

I pass by the plantation and finally see the white sand of the beach, nearly hidden under the stacks of boxes, tents and sailors hanging around. Before I even call up the Sight, Vance’s quite noticeable attire attracts my attention. He is standing beside the boat, ankle deep in shallow water and speaks with a woman in a dark crimson overcoat. From my perspective her face is hidden by long charcoal black hair, but when she raises a hand to tuck a strand behind the ear, something glints in the morning sun. Something suspiciously alike the ring I've got from Governor Torres y Ayala a year ago. Shit, there’s no way I can take out both of them now, too many people, open space. Impossible. However, I can listen to what they're planning on doing. 

Hiding behind tents, mixing with groups if sailors I close up to the pair and finally call up the Sight. Two red figures mark my vision immediately and I settle for a long wait. 

“Why is he still alive? You promised me he'd be dead by the midnight! Where is the map, Vance? I don't like waiting”, ah what a commanding voice our Lady has. 

“I hired a man, he'll do his job and we'll get the map, my dearest Lang!”, whiny bastard. 

“Are you a man or a coward? Even Cain killed Abel with his own hands, isn't it what your holy book says? Go, Vance, and do it yourself like a real man. I am leaving for the forest camp tomorrow morning and don't you dare to come there without the map”. Huh, bossy woman, you're helping me, you know? 

I watch younger Travers intently as he leaves the beach and starts climbing up to town. Knowing there's only one real road connecting our location and the Bureau, from where he would, no doubt, start his search, I sprint through the thin vegetation of the island forest and hide in a haystack near the road. Three guards come across the street and Vance, who's shown up at the crossroad, slows down trying not to attract too much attention. 

As the guards turn back and my target passes me by, I attack. My hidden blade slides between his ribs with precision of a scalpel and my palm muffles all cries and wails that might come out of his mouth. Vance Travers dies fast. As I loot his body in the uncomfortable haystack, it becomes apparent that he did not carry neither map, nor Templar key. Cursing inwardly, I roll out of the stack and after dusting myself off return to the Upton’s hideaway. Time to plan the assassination. 

***

On the way to the house I swung by the market and now the three of us are sitting in the small room eating silently. We let Upton mourn his brother who had been led astray by the Templar captain. We drink not to get drunk but rather to quench our thirst. It's Kidd who breaks the silence, 

“So tomorrow she's going to be in the forests. We have a couple of ways to deal with Ling”.

“To wait for her in the camp or get her on the way there”, I make an assumption. Kidd nods absently, thin braids slip from the weak grasp of his bandana and start dangling along with his movements. He continues speaking but my mind seems to shut down, hypnotized by the pendulum like motions and unable to break the spell after another sleepless night. A minute or maybe an hour later James notices that I'm not completely there and sighs, tucking the braids back. 

“Kenway, we need to plan it through. I don't want to lose anyone due to foolish bravado or any unexpected situations”. I nod, my consciousness returning slowly. “Edward… Shit, this is going nowhere!” He stands up and starts passing the small room from the door to the ladder leading to the second floor and back. This is when Upton speaks up, 

“You both spent a lot of time on keeping me alive and cleaning the mess I've let happen. We won't go after Lang in at least another fifteen hours, so go upstairs and grab a nap. Both of you. I'll take the watch”. While I try to figure out how to move my body again, Kidd taps me on the shoulder and says

“He's right, let's go. We'll plan in the evening”. So we leave Upton and climb the ladder to even smaller room, containing nothing but a wooden carcass of what had been an old bed at some point in the past.

Deciding that sleeping in the floor is much safer, we drop down and try to settle in. I take off my overcoat and fold it to use as a pillow, James does the same with his jacket and soon we lie there, drifting off to the blissful nothingness. Uncontrolled, thoughts resurface in my head and the last words I remember saying to the pirate neighboring beside me are, 

“Hey, Jim, why don't we invite the Order to Inagua?” Then - darkness. 

***

I wake up with the last rays of setting sun that break through the cracks in wooden walls and roof. Stretching slowly I hear the pop in the base of my skull, releasing the tension accumulated during the slumber. I got used to sleeping on the floors and sandy beaches in the last years, but that doesn’t mean I fancy doing so. Low groan on my left informs me that Kidd is now awake too and I turn to him, intending to clarify my offer before we go down to clean, eat and plan the upcoming mission. 

He lies on his back, hair is a mess, once again falling free out of bounds of bandana and a thin leather band. A couple of braids are falling on his relaxed face and I remove them gently, causing James’ right eye to crack open. He smiles,  _ what now  _ is written on his face, but he says nothing. Sitting up, I formulate my words carefully, but nothing seems to sound right, so as usual I decide on the blunt approach,

“Assassins need a new place to run their operations from, aren’t you?” He nods, both eyes now open and face serious. “I plan to rebuild Great Inagua, make it safe. Make it home one day”, I clear my throat, suddenly embarrassed by the admission. “So, right now I have people working on new docks and stores, but that’s just the townside. The island is big enough for us to create a settlement in the jungle, like in Tulum, but under the guise of simple trading town. I don’t think Templars would expect the Order to move there and the island has good natural defences. Think about it, Kidd, and if it seems okay to you, send the word to your Mentor”, I stand, turning away, unsure of his reaction. I just hope he won’t think I’m trying to lure him in a trap, because I’m not.

“You sound confident about it”, he says at last.

“Because I am. It’s not a bargain”, I sigh turning back and look him right in the dark unreadable eyes, “it’s an invitation”. At that he smirks and I feel like I’ve been walking the wire past few minutes and now I finally stand on the solid ground. He jumps up from the floor and tugs me down to his level by the hem of my shirt. The kiss is fleeting, then James throws his jacket on and slides down the ladder, his voice distant,

“We deal with Lang and I’ll send a note to the Mentor. Catch up, Kenway!” Snickering, I put my overcoat on and follow him to the spring.

***

Fight with Jing Lang turns out to be extremely educational. Leaving the safehouse in the middle of the night to set up an ambush I couldn’t even imagine that three hours late I’ll be sprinting through crocodile and mosquito-filled swamps and campsites infested by Templars. Lady Lang, it seems, did not plan to wait till Vance’s return and decided to leave Nassau with the dawn. So I ran and hid, climbing trees covered in sticky moss and dropping into thick green bushes to see a group of axemen pass by. Every now and then I felt the movement in my peripheral vision, Kidd’s body mimicking my motions. 

Just as we stepped onto the cliff hanging over the sea shore, we saw her standing there in dimness of the dying night, an overseer, a trickster prepared to leap down and sail away from Nassau. Not on my watch,  Lady! Still running, I freed the knife from my boot and threw in at her, hoping to create a distraction. She saw us just one moment later, already moving away from the threat.

We attack her in unison, Kidd coming at her from behind, hidden blades out and ready, I - unsheathing my swords and slashing at her hand. She, quick and agile, almost dances away from my swords but has to drop down, dodging Kidd’s swift attacks. Minutes pass by and I see that I’m more of an obstacle than a real threat to her, that’s what we spoke about weeks ago - my moves are too heavy, they carry too much power. Making a decision, I drop my swords down and simply throw myself at Lang. I watch her start to evade, then see my weapons on the ground and she twists her body to stab me in the chest. I almost let her reach me but in the last moment my brace deflects the short sword and I plunge my hidden blade right through her throat. She screams and as we lower her to the ground, spits out,

“You wouldn’t get the map anyway. It’s nothing but a forgery...” Her last breath leaving her body, Lang stills. I close her eyes and look up at Kidd,

“What about other Templars?” He sits on the ground unmoving, eyes distant.

“The Order will take care of it. Take the key from her and let’s get back to the Bureau. I have a letter to write, then we may leave”. He looks tired, I’m afraid, I do too. I reach out to him, offering a hand and James takes it, standing up.

“What about going down to Inagua? The lads must have finished the base for the docks”, I wiggle my brows playfully, “Wanna see?” He smacks me on the head lightly, smile threatening to curve his lips,

“You’re such a child, Kenway!”

“You like me anyway”, I sing song in response.


	8. Nesting habits of Edward Kenway

When the sun spills its first rays through the thick canopy above the house, I rise from the bed and go out to tavern to grab some food. It’s been three months since we returned from Nassau and there’s been a lot of work done. On our way back we took a little detour to Tortuga, successfully stealing a large amount of iron for Jackdaw’s upgrade from the plantation and spent more than a month here at Inagua building new houses, tavern and stores. Then the letter from Ah Tabai came with a ship full of Assassins ready to settle in the thick jungle of the island and I came to redefine the meaning of the word “busy”. It’s only now we finally can have a breather, when almost all members of the Order left Tulum and established a new life here.

On the way back I drop by the store and, taking a few cans of paint, start to climb my way up to the house I came to call home. Young woman in Assassin’s robes waves at me, smiling and I return the gesture. There are lots of people I’m still not acquainted with personally, but Jim takes a great pleasure in dragging me around to meet and greet newcomers. I don’t mind as long as we don’t collide with Ah Tabai. The man grudgingly accepted my offer, but I still feel his appraising glance every time we meet.

Getting back to the house I begin painting the porch and doors white. Around noon the heat gets to me and I take off most of my clothes except for the pants, stashing them under an old tree, and continue working. When Kidd finally wakes up, absolutely not a morning person he is, he comes to the doors and reaches for the handle so I shoo him away, not really wanting his footprints on the newly made paint. Laughing like madman he vanishes into the house and the next moment falls out of the window on the second floor, perching on the rooftop. 

“Have you seen yourself, Kenway? You're smeared with the paint from head to toe! Getting a little bit domestic, aren't we?” I just stare at him from the ground, my brush pointing at him accusingly like the short sword. 

“Cut your sass, Kidd, and get your ass down here! If we're leaving for Havana tomorrow, and we do, I need to finish this before sunset. Let's check if you're as good with handling brush as you're with hidden blade?” I just can't hold off a smirk looking at indignant expression on his face and wiggle my fingers at him, beckoning. He jumps down on the ground and while I openly watch him with rapt attention, takes off his jacket, shirt and boots, letting the sun polish his tan. As he takes the second brush from the paint can I get a slight shove on my side, 

“It's in your beard, just so you know” and I groan. Getting clean is going to be a nightmare. 

***

Sitting on a cliff near the newly painted porch we let the rising wind dishevel our for once unbound hair. Down below Jackdaw is dancing on the waves, letting the rising tide run past and hit the shore of Great Inagua. Hoarse cries of seagulls echo off the caverns’ walls before drowning in the crystal blue water as we watch the storm beginning to form out in the open sea. It will rain. 

When the first lightning stings the waves far away from our vantage point, Kidd leans back, propping himself on the elbow. I flop beside him, deeply inhaling salty breeze, and close my eyes, contented. Life is great. As the wind rises again, I feel James’ slender finger trace the scar running through my brow. 

“I ain’t no scholar or philosopher”, he offers. I just smile and hum questioningly, not really wanting him to stop touching me. “Do you remember Creed’s maxim?”

_“Nothing is true._ _Everything is permitted”,_ I say, “Strange turn of the phrase with a lot more sense than I'll ever be able to comprehend?”  For my cheek I earn a flick on the nose. The hand abandons my face and this very second the first fat raindrop lands right on my forehead. The second follows suit and in a moment downpour spills on us without mercy. Jumping up, we sprint to the porch, water cutting us from the rest of the world like a wall. James studies it with great interest, poking the hand outside of the roof’s protection and shivers. Not giving it too much thought I pull him close, sharing the heat of my body with the Assassin. His strong hands slid around my waist and we just stand here completely alone in our own world. 

“Maybe it urges us to be wiser? To consider the choices we make? Cause we are to live with the consequences of our choices?” My voice sounds muffled as my mouth is pressed to the top of his head while his face rests in the crook of my neck. We both take time time thinking about it so I start running my fingers through his raven hair. As one more lightning pierces the sky, James pulls away slightly, looking up at me with his impossibly dark eyes. I don't know what is it he sees on my face, but the next second he raises up on his toes and his lips are already on mine, demanding but gentle cause tonight we don't have to hurry and I let myself get lost in the moment. Then the late rumble of the thunderstorm breaks the silence and I break the kiss, leaning lower to whisper in his ear:

“If so, why don't we learn from it and live and shape our own reality the way we want it?”

He steps back laughing and pulls me into the house, shutting the door and leaving the storm to rage outside. 

“You have the best ideas, Kenway”, he murmurs, crossing the room in long strides. Settling atop of the deck Kidd wiggles his brows with inviting smile, “the way we want it”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you liked it, please drop some feedback in the comments!


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